The View from the Café
Six men haul a jet ski out of a placid sea that’s flashing cream-soda in the evening sun; they drag […]
Six men haul a jet ski out of a placid sea that’s flashing cream-soda in the evening sun; they drag […]
The sea washed scarlet that night. The tide rushed in—swelling and breaking—washing all traces out to sea on the
why in the night when the psyche goes widening over the long and intricate landscape where sleep knits together the
Hemispheres apart— we have been this way for years. As I rise with the rising moon, you sleep on through
The stick ladder leads to the other dimension where the hand winch lifts January out of the empty pit. The
Mostly it’s their feet I remember—shaggy hooves the size of pies stomping through the snow, their breath forming in white